


Love

by DarkShadowRin



Series: Timna Drake [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadowRin/pseuds/DarkShadowRin
Summary: "Hey B."Tim is just paying enough attention to notice the jump in his shoulders.Bruce turns to her, sitting in the corner of the cave with a whole tub of ice cream on her lap, "Tim? What are you doing there?"
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Timna Drake [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057688
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [applejee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/applejee/gifts).



> And here I was wondering why my italics weren't sticking.

"Hey B."

Tim is just paying enough attention to notice the jump in his shoulders.

Bruce turns to her, sitting in the corner of the cave with a whole tub of ice cream on her lap, "Tim? What are you doing there?"

Waiting to surprise you because ever since she'd first achieved it, she's become just a tad bit addicted, though it's still a fifty fifty probability of success especially in the cave and the manor as opposed to anywhere else. One day, she swears she'll eventually get to one hundred and it'll be a day to commemorate.

Tim likes to think it's her serving her own justice on behalf of Commissioner Gordon and all the other people Batman had, with what she's sure must've been sadistic glee, caused to shriek and jump off roofs.

And no, obviously this never happened to her.

"It's the coldest here other than the freezer." She shrugs, scooping another spoonful of the sweet goodness, humming innocently to herself and knowing she'll never be caught in the lie as long as she doesn't say one.

~*~

There are a lot of advantages to being small.

(And disadvantages but she's not _actually_ small, she's actually average sized, and Bruce and Dick are just giants who gorged themselves with tallness when the heaven opened up and rained with it and no one is going to change her mind.)

Tim is currently enjoying one of those luxuries. She shifts under the towels and snacks and cereals (different categories, apparently) that Dick is piling up into the cart. The first time he coaxed her into one, Tim had been incredibly reluctant.

Past Tim didn't know what she was missing on.

"With marshmallow or nah. This one has cornflakes."

"You're the adult Dick. No one can tell you that you can't buy both and mix them together." She answers from where she lightly swing her leg over the lip of her new crib.

"You're absolutely right, Timmy." He cheerfully toss the two into the cart with her. "Anything you want?"

"Pocky, gummy bears, one of those matcha ice cream, sandwich ice cream, and mochi ice cream." She lists shamelessly.

Dick seems to glow brighter -which is an odd thing to say but he actually does, Tim has yet to figure out how- when she speaks her mind more so she's been doing it lately.

She snaps her camera at him when he starts looking away from the lense and a bit to the side -and this time, she's even doing it with his permission. She let's it drop back on her chest, head tilted up to the fluorescent lights.

Tim mindlessly fiddle with the cold metal of the watch on her wrist.

After she'd been kidnapped as Tim Drake last week, Bruce had demanded she wear it twenty four seven and Tim isn't exactly used to wearing a watch or having something around her wrist that isn't leather or plastic strips.

Tracker, homing device, beacon. Which she'd then promptly made some additions to that very same night. So Tim Drake now has a slightly dumbed down version of Robin's super computer gauntlet

The watch is still annoying.

She'd have at least added velvet on the inside.

Dick pulls the cart behind him and she enjoys the movement so much she drifts off.

He wakes her up so they can load the groceries into the trunk and and Tim flinch at the box he shakes in front of her after she secures her seatbelt.

"Dick?"

A box of chips with the collectible baby yoda cards with it. Her eyes widen and she accept it with a smile.

"Thanks."

~*~

Tim lands on a slight indent in the cave walls, sets down the tray prepared by Alfred, and flips away past the hanging bats, using a stalactite to swing to a perch installed into the ceiling, right beside Dick.

They watch the bats steadily pick at the snacks in comfortable silence.

Dick poke at her cheek, "Dumpling."

Tim doesn't blink.

He does it again.

She wish she can push him but she's more likely to fall than him.

~*~

The only reason Tim doesn't put her face in her hands is sheer stubbornness to not voluntarily put herself in a vulnerable position.

Instead, she has to watch Nightwing scare the shit out of some thugs by growling and standing in the direct way of a window light while putting fingers over his head.

Robin coughs because... he needs cough drops. Yeah.

~*~

"Dick... I don't think...." Tim fidgets in her place, looking at all the Halloween themed decorated houses. Not Gotham, of course. Somewhere in Pennsylvania.

"Oh, come on, Tim. You can't honestly be planning on making Cass do this on her own." Dick says innocently and Cass nods to his words.

Tim huffs, "Dick, we're too old for this, don't you think?"

She motions at Cass in her Mulan costume, and herself in a ghost buster uniform.

Because even if she wasn't exactly planning to wear it, she'd rather pick her own costume than let Dick do it.

And sure, neither of them has what people would exactly call good fashion sense, but if she's going to be embarrassed, she'd prefer it be her choice of poison.

Dick frowns at her, "Tim, come on. It's a good opportunity. Neither of you has ever trick or treated and this way, both of your first time is together. Don't you think that's just too great a chance to pass up just so we can pretend we've matured past stuffing candies down our throat?"

Because they really haven't.

And now Tim feels bad. Damn him and his simple but effective manipulation.

Sighing, she nods and grumbles like the kid she just claimed herself not to be.

The two smile at her.

"There we go. Now come on, Timmy. Better get started as soon as we can."

"You're gonna end up eating half our loot."

"I'm your big brother escorting you for trick or treating. It's like a rule to give me some for compensation."

Cass snorts.

Tim smirks, "What Cass said."

Said girl grabs her hand and starts dragging her down the street, leaving a smiling Dick behind to follow at a more sedate pace. Even though he really doesn't need to. Nothing will happen to the 'Ultimate Batman Duo' as Dick has started calling them and Tim will never admit she takes some pride in.

In the end, she has fun. More fun than she'd thought, really.

~*~

"Shush~, shush babies. Come on, look at me you guys. Isn't yellow supposed to be a fun color?" Robin holds the two children on either side of her hips as they wail at her ears. Robin drapes the underside of the cape at them just to see if that'll magically work.

How do you calm babies? How does Robin calm babies?

Dick did tricks and Jason did faces. They made the babies laugh.

Tim doesn't know how to do a funny face, not ad lib and especially not with a mask, so tricks it is. Putting them down, Robin starts juggling shurikens.

The brunette pauses but resumes crying immediately. If they were calmer that might've worked. Does she need to flip? She can do that, easy. She knows _she_ enjoys Dick's flips especially as a kid.

Something catch at the corner of her eye. Batman is talking to the Commisioner about returning the children and making the case against the cop that had taken them.

Of course, as Robin, civilian comfort is her share of the load, but seeing Batman's back sparks an idea.

Crouching in front of the twins, Robin croons, infusing as much comfort and calm in her voice.

"Hey, hey, princess, come on. Please? For me? Can you help me, please? Pretty, pretty please." She sweeps them back into her arms, bouncing them a couple of times.

When the time they need to settle down to refill their air capacity inevitably comes, she pounced on the chance and proceeds to adopt an official tone, "Listen, soldiers."

They blink at her curiously. Baby right hiccups.

"I need your attention, cadets. We've got a mission. A very, very important mission of the utmost, er, importance. Can you help me?"

Their interest in her odd change of tone is the only thing keeping them to low sniffles.

The blonde one exchange a look with her partner and Tim feels like she's in front of investors. Not that she'd ever been mind you, but she thinks this is probably how it'll feel.

"Uh... huh." They nod tentatively.

Tim starts moving even as she keeps talking, making a circle around the officers so they and Batman can still see them. But not the Commie.

"Alright, little ones-"

"No. Call us sowdiers."

"Oh. Right, um, soldiers. We're in a mission, infiltrating the enemy camp, and we need to be very, very quite if we want to do it."

"What's the mission?" She squints at Robin suspiciously as if the hero is just saying it to stop them from bawling. Which, well, yes, but no.

Robin smirks.

"Look at that man. He's the Commissioner. See that hat on his head? A pretty cool hat, ain't it? Well its a very important classified file, and we need to retrieve, I mean, get it."

Seeing their wide eyes, she grins. Motioning for them to cover their mouths, Robin moves through the shadows and between the officers who silently shuffle aside with suppressed smiles as they stalk towards Gordon himself.

Timing it just right, Robin lifts the two of them up, and they snag the hat with an enthusiasm that startled even her. Robin jumps back as they shriek in triumph and Gordon turns in surprise.

Robin giggles with them, their simple joy quite contagious, and she'd swear to Barbara later that she'd totally seen Batman smiling.

~*~

Tim grit her teeth. To her embarrassment, she can feel her eyes burn.

Why isn't it working? What is she missing? The answer isn't coming together.

She feels so _dumb._ And it isn't a familiar or pleasant experience.

She allows herself a moment to imagine throwing the folder against a wall and watching as the papers flutter to the ground.

It would be such a bratty thing to do but cathartic and only the thought of being caught doing something so unprofessional keeps her from going through with it.

Tim still finds it uncomfortable when Bruce watch over her, to realize that he's _supposed_ to supervise her. She sometimes feel stifled in a way she'd never been before.

Rarely, it's reassuring, most times it's just pressing.

Heaving a sigh, she resumes reviewing the case for the hundredth time (an exaggeration admittedly, but she thinks she's getting close), sprawled out on Bruce's bat-chair.

Still, nothing is coming forth, nothing stands out, no sudden connection accost her and certainly no neon red arrow points her to the criminal.

Tim growls, rubbing at her eyes.

This isn't the first time she'd felt suddenly not up to task for the vigilante life _,_ and she tells herself it won't be the last either so she better get used to it now because it doesn't look like she'd stop anytime soon anyways.

There certainly isn't a finish line anywhere in sight yet.

She wonders if Bruce ever feels like this. She can't imagine Dick or Babs crying over case files.

She wonders if Jason ever felt so frustrated, or it really had been as easy to him as it had looked.

Then she shakes her head because she needs to focus.

Focus, girl. Focus.

Anything is possible if you try hard enough and she hasn't been proven wrong yet.

She's just not trying hard enough.

Focus... focus... focus... focus...

What is she supposed to be focusing on?

Tim groans with all the drama a teenage girl has, and the Batcave groans back.

"Same." She tells it.

"Well, that's my cue, if I've ever heard one." Dick comes into existence like one of those faes that appear by the road corner to offer assistance to the protagonist when faced with a split road.

Tim always thought they were too corny.

Tim looks at him with the same expression a dead fish might have and he returns it with a smile so bright she thinks her skin is actually flaking.

Jerk. He knows she sunburns.

"Come on, kid. Let's get you some brain gas."

"Ew. Don't say that."

He grabs her arm and drags her off the chair, "Come on. Up you go."

~*~

Don't get her wrong. This whole vigilante thing is fun.

Being thrown off of skyscrapers, dodging bullets by a hairsbreadth, going undercover as a made up person, the banter against the occasional enjoyably clever opponent, martial arts fights, learning new things, knowing things no one else does, the exclusive photos she takes, the stories she's told, the people she meets, the friends she makes; all fun things.

But probably one of the best moments as Robin, the diamond in a pile of coal, the platinum to the silver, the gem to the rocks -is when Batman needs your help.

Especially when he's tied upside down, cape over face.

Robin takes a moment to erase the obvious grin in his voice.

"Need an assist, Batman?"

The Dark Knight sighs, "Yes, Robin."

~*~

"Promise me, Tim. You can't ever loose this."

She looks at him flatly, "Mmrphmpru."

"No, Tim!" He squish her cheeks even more, "You can never ever lose this! You're so cute with your baby cheeky cheeks."

He even has sparkly Disney princess tears in his eyes as they kneel in the sitting room.

Bruce walks in and pause by the doorway.

"Bruce! Tell her she can't lose this!"

Dick turns her face to her partner and she glares at him, the best she can, as if to say 'control your son, associate of mine'.

Bruce coughs into his hand, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't think that's possible Dick."

"You have to know some magic to preserve these chubby cheeks, right?"

Tim swats his hands away from her, scowling, "Like hell I'm gonna stay fourteen forever."

Dick freeze and turns to her.

"... yeah. You won't."

And he looks so nostalgic she almost feels guilty. Almost.

Then he smirks, "And that's why you gotta let me spend more time with you baby bird. You won't be a baby forever."

She already spends all her time not for her school friends or for the Mission with him, when he's not with _his_ friends and doing _hi_ s part to the Mission.

And then like all stereotypical big brothers around the world, he dives at her to give her a noogie, knocking her clips loose from her hair.

"DICK! Stop! Bruce! Stop your barnacle!"

She thinks she hears a familiar snap.

"There's not much I can do about him either."

"Dick, I swear! I've been told that smashing someone with a brick to the face is only appropriate in this situation! Don't make me-" she shrieks when he hits a tickly part of her in her side.

Dick pause. Tim is already looking at him in horror.

She tries for an attempt at a nerve strike to disengage but he's already grinning like the cat that got the canary.

Tim suddenly hates bird idioms.

~*~

"Robin!"

Robin is hit by the full weight of a Nightwing as one of the cars in the junkyard they're running through explodes. They roll meters away and he can still feel the heat on the back of his neck.

Nightwing pulls them behind some crates.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. They're still moving but they changed directions." He says, attention still attuned to the gang members.

A muscle on Nightwing's jaw jump.

"That's- You weren't paying attention, Robin." The sharpness has her looking up at him in surprise.

"... What? I was. I just said-"

"To your immediate surroundings." He says tightly, "Next time, pay better attention to that. Understand?"

She's still in his arms and with him sounding angry and the close proximity has her heart beating in her chest.

"... Yes?"

Nightwing breathes through his nose.

"Stay after patrol. We're going to talk about this."

"I- okay." He almost adds a sir to it.

"Go. We do a pincer. You take left, I get right." He pulls them to their feet and then they're splitting up.

~*~

The happy, almost manic, tune practically makes a choir with the rest of the machines in the arcade. Tim stands straight in front of the glass, finger on the button and waiting, waiting, waiting-

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

"That's another win. Seven out of seven. How do you do it?" Dick asks over her shoulder as she crouch down to take her prize.

"The song. There's a pattern."

"There is?"

Tim busies herself with putting all the tickets in their plastic, "Well, no. Kinda. Yes. It's all music, but divide it to four stanza, the second crescendo of every other one, and then it shifts to third to the next play, and it's the seventh after before it returns. Two, three, seven of two-fourths. I guess. I memorized it when we were eating."

"So what do you wanna get with all that?"

"I don't know. Playing was already fun."

"You mean winning."

She shrugs as she straighten, "Yeah."

"So I pick then?"

"Sure."

~*~

"Da Dum...."

Robin slithers up the loose floor boards and beside a crate, leaving behind the distant sound of waves crashing against the wooden base structure.

"Da Dum...."

Rolling past different rows of crates and taking a quick peek in them to confirm that it's the right place for the arms deal, Robin makes his way to the corner he plans to station himself behind.

"Da Dum Da Dum...."

And comes face to face with guns. Or, well, they were slightly more to the right and definitely won't reach the Girl Wonder even if they shoot it now.

"... oh, hey, you guys. How'd you know I was here?" Robin asks them sheepishly.

"You were humming." one of the goons deadpans.

Robin winced, "Ooooh, yeah. Sorry, I didn't realize."

"Nah, I get you man." Another goon says, "The whole place definitely has that ambiance."

"I'm always glad to meet someone with a similar sense of humour." Robin chirps, before kicking on a beam to flip over them, "That said, still gotta do my job you know."

"Do you even get paid for this?" a guy yelps before he's kicked aside.

"Paid with the joys of justice and the occasional macaroons."

~*~

Pulling, she grunts when the wires barely budge. Tim scowls at the open hood of her Red bird.

It's pretty durable, made to survive a lot of things, but at the moment, it's beautiful build is working against her.

"Come on, baby. Mama's arms are starting to hurt, don't be so stubborn." She mutters, bracing one foot on the lip.

"Need help?"

She crane her head up to look at Dick upside down. He's upside down too, hanging from his knees from one of the trapeze grapples fixed to the walls, the line adjustable so he can easily reach the floor whenever he wants.

"Would be much appreciated, yes."

Dick beams, flips to his feet as she right herself.

"Did something break?" He grips the part closer to the base and motions for her to pull with him.

"Something got stuck, yeah, but I also wanna try something too. Wanna add some hoverboards."

She makes an 'oof' sound when it releases, almost falling on her bum if not for her training.

"Hoverboards?" he turns to her curiously.

"You know. For driving off cliffs." She shrugs.

He nods understandingly, "Hn. I can help."

Seeing as he had apparently been just swinging around this whole time, presumably watching her suffer until he finally felt like helping, he clearly doesn't have anything else better to do so she agrees.

They're deep in motor guts when Alfred finds them with a tray of sandwiches.

The sight of Alfred reminds her of something and she waits until he leaves them before glancing at Dick.

"Hey, dude?"

"Hm?"

"I heard a song earlier. You ever heard it?"

Dick looks up in interest, "Song?"

Tim pauses a beat then starts humming, "The tune's pretty catchy."

"Yeah, that seems familiar. I think I've heard someone play that."

Dick is usually on top of these things but he'd just returned from off-world. Tim grins, giddy that she's the one to introduce him to it. She takes out her phone, sets it to the lowest volume, and plays the 'Birds of Prey'.

"It's a theatre hit." Tim watch his expression closely.

"Good evening, all you gentlemen  
Mobsters, creeps and crooks  
Men in tights come after you  
And still you're off the hook  
For those who scare and terrorize  
It's the dawn of a brand new day  
You scum can simply call us  
The one and only Birds of Prey!

Green Lantern has his special ring..."

By the end of it, Dick isn't sure to hate himself for laughing or love the genuis that came up with it. For the next few days, the two ends up giggling whenever Batman is within sight and Bruce spent the week looking over his shoulder, not quite sure what to fear but feeling it all the same.

~*~

Robin hears him arrive and immediately latches onto the older vigilante.

"Well, someone seems happy to see me."

"O-of, c-course. I-I l-love my b-big b-brother." her teeth chatters.

"Mmhm. And that's not just because you're using me as a portable heater?"

Their suits are insulated, best technology in the market, but the fact that she has short sleeves kind of suck right now. How had Dick and Jason survived in panty shorts?

"N-nonsense. Y-You dare d-doubt m-my love?" If this was Bruce, she could've wrapped herself in his cape. Why doesn't Nightwing have a cape? Capes are pretty useful. Blurring proportions, shielding civilians from debris, parachute, and a lot of other things. Is he safe in this? Maybe she should suggest it to him? For his safety, of course.

Nightwing rests his chin on Robin's head, which require him to crouch a little but he's held more uncomfortable positions than this that it doesn't even register as one, "Well, I don't dislike this kind of greeting, just so you know."

~*~

Jack had promised. He'd promised he'd pick her up.

Tim, for once, had been over the moon to go to school. It was actually embarrassing, thinking back on her eagerness to leave the cave last night.

Jack had promised her that he's going to pick her up after school and they're going to spend the afternoon doing things. Tim can't recall the last time she'd eaten lunch with even just one of her parents.

They usually arrived home at nights, and leave at early mornings. Whether they return within the next months is always sort of a guessing game depending on their whims and something to manage cropping up somewhere. Somewhere else.

Anywhere else but here.

Tim swing her feet side to side, up down, and diagonal, thinking up another kata she really can wait to start practicing.

Jack promised.

Her dad promised.

The school bus has already left and it's a good thing she bought her Red board with her. She'll have to get changed into some shorts first though.

Tim should really leave now. It's obvious Jack must've forgotten.

Or at least, forgotten to tell her not to wait up.

This isn't even the first time.

Tim should leave. Get up from this bench and start her travel back home so she won't be late for patrol.

Problem is, Tim can't.

It's a familiar state she only rarely feels nowadays, night after night of swinging over rooftops and on the knife's edge.

It feels like still water. Like being still water.

It'll pass. She knows.

So she waits. Waits for that ripple to get her back moving again.

"Tim?"

Side to side, up down, diagonal. Patterns.

"Tim."

Dick.

Patterns.

There's no footsteps, but she feels the air shift and sees him as he kneels in front of her, eyes wide.

Why is Dick in her school? Dick has no business here.

No business except her.

He must've anticipated that Jack would leave her hanging, just as she did.

But she'd hoped.

"Tim. I..... "

"I'm not surprised."

Just hurt.

"I know they love me. I used to doubt that, before I was Robin-" before she can have this bit of distance during her training, "-but now I know definitely." Side to side, up down, diagonal, "You know, Dick. People don't realise it, but there's a difference between loving and caring. They love me. They just... don't care."

Not like Sebastian's mother. Or Sebastian. Or Dick. Not even Alfred.

"I love them too. I just don't understand how you can't care for someone you love."

She meets his gaze, feeling as if she's wrapped in cotton. Muted. Everything is muted.

"Don't you think so too, Dick. How hard must it be, not to care for something you love?" It's rather backwards, in Tim's personal experience.

She feels strong arms wrap around her and it's familiar. When did it become familiar?

She returns the hug. She always returns the hug.

She cares for Dick, and she think she might even love him.

"My parents are weird." She mumbles into his shoulder.

"... yeah, they are."

~*~

"Dick? Hellooo?" She calls out into the hall. The way Tim knows the vigilante life is really seeping into her is that she'd had to double back to enter through the front door when she'd made a beeline to the fire escape. She slips the keys back into her pockets.

"Tim? Why are you here? Something happened?" Dick pops his head from the kitchen.

Tim blinks at him, freezing in the doorway, "Dick? What are you doing here?"

He raise an eyebrow at her, "Fancy meeting you in my apartment Tim, would you look at all these coincidences these days. You even called me."

"No, I mean. Isn't it your birthday today? Don't you have plans to go out?" Or visit the circus as she'd been told he did on occasion. Though with how busy and grounded he is with duty, that doesn't seem to be as much as he wish.

His eyes widen in surprise and something else in it that makes something in her gut churn uncomfortably, though it's gone too quickly for her to pin it down.

"Oh, yeah. I went out with some friends yesterday." His eyes flit to her hand.

She raise the cake and the pair of wrapped gifts she bought with her, one of which is remarkably more neatly packed, "I'd thought I'd leave it here for you to come back to. Though now....."

He fully steps into the living room, "You didn't have to, Tim."

She shrugs, "Well, I feel better when you say that. I kind of panicked when Alfred told me this morning that it's your birthday, so the cake and gift is pretty generic. Well, mine is, I also bought Alfred's."

He smirks at her, hugging her with one arm while the other holds a bowl of cereal, "I'd thought you'd have known that, Miss expert of all Grayson."

She look at him in confusion.

"I already have enough trouble keeping track of Ives's birthday, and then mine, I don't know why you'd think I'd be able to keep track of the neighbour's."

Then she pause and narrows her eyes at him as he pull her deeper into his abode, "Hey, wait a minute. Was that a trick question? Richie Grayson's birthday isn't public knowledge."

She's pretty sure she'd looked it up once, to cross reference with a particularly bouncy night for Robin.

He chuckles and ruffle her hair.

"Come on, I was just getting hungry. What flavour did you get?"

"Dark Forest. I bought candles too."

"Great!"

~*~

Honestly, Tim never thought she'd be this... attached to Dick Grayson.

She'd had different muses through her short life, has played with varied interests that she'd chased down to the ends of the internet. Dick had just been the most elusive, and then the most interesting, and he'd somehow become a lifetime... er, she doesn't usually like using the word, but there's no getting around that he's definitely, in one manner or another, an obsession.

And then with Dick Grayson, somehow naturally, also comes Batman.

Bruce had mainly been a peripheral prop in Dick's frame. Undoubtedly, irreplaceably, a part of it, but barely a centrepiece.

Then there was Jason Todd, who had been a personified force of inspiration in his own right.

Alfred Pennyworth is an underrated subject, a perennial element in every splinter that makes up the Wayne legacy.

Tim doesn't just prefer watching from afar. She loves it. The lenses between them should've been the extent of their relationship and yet....

Dick Grayson is now brother, Bruce Wayne is her teacher, and Alfred Pennyworth is the man behind Gotham's guardian angel.

Dick and Bruce are finally talking -like actually talking about anything other than mission briefings and screaming matches-, Alfred has finally given up trying to teach her to cook something beyond eggs and microwave recipes, she feels like she may never really get a hang of being a hero but she's also learned that no one ever truly does, and, well, she's helping, and it can also be fun, and Dick sometimes spooks her with his influence over her but she's discovering that it might actually just be a Dick Grayson thing and really, what hope did she even have whenever he turns it full force on her.

It's just such a shame that you can never truly capture something this big in a single picture.

But hey, Babara seems more than happy to provide storage for her so she can at least try and try again.


End file.
